Tell Me I'm A Bad Man [Teacher/Student Frerard]

Thirty-two - The Hardest Part Of This

This chapter has mentions of sexual abuse, don't feel like you have to read it ❤️

"Who took these?" He asked slowly, a smirk spreading on his face as he stood up and walked towards us. "Was it you, Frank?" I shook my head. "Oh, I think it was. If I know my Gee..." He tapped the edge of the photos against his chin and then ran them over Gerard's jaw. "...he wouldn't dress up like this for just any guy. I didn't even know that he was capable of dressing up like this." He looked at Gerard, who was scowling. "Show me."

"No." My boyfriend said instantly, folding his arms.

"Oh, but you should. Because I know that jailbait over here took these. I can't prove it, sure, but I know. I'm not stupid. And I'm not sure your school would appreciate seeing pictures of you like this, especially when I throw in the idea that he took them. The accusation alone will stir shit up. The rest, well, it'll follow."

"You can't do that." Gerard held his hand out for the photos. "Give me those."

"Do as I say." Bert smiled wickedly. "And then I might just give them back."

"I'm not doing it."

He turned to me. "You dress up."

"No." Gerard interjected. "No way."

There was a tense pause, and Bert tilted his head to the side a little. "Then you know what to do."

I didn't want him to do it, I didn't want him to dress up like that for him because if he did that then Bert would want more, he would want to do more with Gerard, to Gerard, and he would make me watch. Not to mention the intense burning jealousy that I would feel when I saw Gerard dressed like that and Bert drooling all over him. I took Gerard's wrist and held onto him, pleading with my eyes. Even if Bert went to the school with the photos, the school wouldn't care...would they? Well, they would if Bert slipped my name into it, but we could lie our way out of it. The only way that Bert could prove that it was me would be if he had my camera...right?

"It'll be okay, Frank." Gerard said, staring hard at Bert.

"I don't feel comfortable with this." I said, my voice cracking.

"Now, little Frankie, listen to Gerard. Let us men do what we gotta do, okay?" Bert said, treating me as if I was eight instead of eighteen.

"You can't -"

Gerard cut me off. "So I just dress up for you, and then you'll give me the photos and leave us alone?"

The other man shrugged. "Maybe."

Gerard turned to me, gently taking his arm from my grasp and kissing my forehead. "You stay here. I won't be long."

"Gee -"

"Whatever you do, do not come upstairs. Okay?"

I felt tears surface and shook my head. "Don't do this. Please don't do this."

"It's nothing to get upset over, sweetheart. I'm doing it to protect you."

"Why do I have to stay down here?"

He turned and glanced at Bert, who raised his eyebrows as he smirked, and he shrugged. "Just because."

I swallowed heavily, stepping back. "Fine. Do it. Whatever."

"Frank -"

"Just do it."

He sighed, glanced at Bert, and left the room. Bert's smirk turned into a grin, looking like the cat that had got the cream. He also exited trough the door, leaving me alone in the doorway.